Waiting with a Cup of Fruit Tea

Here's a cup of fruit tea.

It's supposed to be hot. Not anymore. She's been waiting for 2 hours now. Her yellow handbag sat on her lap, her itouch in her hand. She opened the iBooks app then closed it. She did not feel like reading at the moment.

"Traffic. Emergency meeting. Diarrhea," whatever reason that was, she understood. He promised to be there, so He will be. He never broke a promise, and He won't tonight.

She gulped the fruit tea until empty. Perhaps, the green tea would also taste good. She stood up, pressed the water boiler labelled Green Tea, and filled the cup to the brim.

It was quarter to 7, and she was firm on staying - on waiting. The chair felt good in her butt, and her favorite game show was on TV. While watching the girl lift the can with a straw, she blew the wisps off the cup and took a sip. Green tea tasted good as expected.

The tall, pretty girl won. Her favorite game show was over - it was 7:01 p.m. Her green tea's lukewarm now - her second tea, and yet He still hadn't come. She drummed her fingers on the table, thinking if she should wait some more or go and tell Him she needed to...because of traffic, emergency meeting, or diarrhea. She finished her tea. Now, she got an empty cup, a different show on TV, and an iBooks app she did not feel like clicking. She had to go.

She put her itouch inside her bag and zipped it. She stood up, walked towards the glass door, and pulled it open with the handle. As she went off, a piece of paper fell on the floor. A waiter picked it, pulled the door, and waved it in the air, "Miss! You left this!" But she was already too far to hear him. Maybe it wasn't that important. The waiter looked at the paper in his hand, which words read:

I'll meet you in the tea shop at 8:00 p.m. I have something for you. - Jesus

In God's Perfect Time

Should I wait for green leaves to dry,

or for many storms to stop pelting down?

Then I will.

Should I wait for the orange-drenched sky,

or for a gold to lose its luster?

Then I will.

Should I wait for my bones to go a bit brittle,

or for my falling hair to grow thick as a roll of yarn?

Then I will.

Should I wait until the soles of my shoes go thin,

or 'til my nails grow long and be cut for the nth time?

Then I will.

If this is what it takes for God to align the stars

and get me a ride on the moon prepared,

then I will wait.

I will, as long as I behold that sunshine in my mind,

that morning when I would finally wake up

and breathe in the air I am waiting for.

I will, as long as I hold dear the fact

 that after a seemingly endless wait,

in God's perfect time,

what'll be in my arms 

will be perpetually worthwhile.